Strange Acquaintances: Roan Inish
by Amy Mayr
Summary: AU, I suppose. Post-movie. Take Will and Jack, add mythical creatures, shake well and serve over ice. Jack has strange friends. WIP


Will had been suitably wary when Jack had said they'd be bartering safe passage for the Pearl with 'old friends' of his. When Will had ask the nature of these friends – knowing from experience that 'friend' could mean a great many things to Jack, which is why the Captain has never called Will his friend – Jack merely said he'd returned a precious thing to a woman, once upon a time. So Will had expected strangeness, but he'd also expected humans.  
  
Selkies. Shite.  
  
The Pearl dropped anchor on the edge of a reef, the only land in sight an unfriendly looking beach that showed no signs of habitation but by seals and gulls had not helped Will's nerves. But the rest of the crew had simply gone about their business and Jack, well. Jack was Jack and there was really no telling with him.  
  
Things had gotten stranger when the sun started to set and all the crew save Jack had disappeared below deck. Will had stayed above, refusing to move without an explanation. Jack hadn't seem perturbed by his presence, just grinned wolfishly at Will and continued to sprawl against the tiller in a way that only looked negligent.  
  
Will, leaning against the railing, had spotted them first. Two seals, sleek, darting, brown shapes, larger than any he'd seen before. They'd leapt into the dinghy that'd been lowered earlier - wide flippers clumsy on wooden planks - and _changed_ in a way Will wants desperately to remember but can't seem to. Will had scrambled backwards, moving away from the railing and the slowly rising dinghy until his back hit the mast and he froze. And now they are standing on the deck, speaking with Jack in the manner of old friends. Will's shoulders are beginning to ache from pressing back into the mast, but he can't seem to move.  
  
They are beautiful and strange. A man and a woman, ageless, naked but for the seal skins around their waists. Tall and soft-bodied, and not a hair on their bodies but what grew on their heads.  
  
"Young Master Turner!"  
  
Fingers loaded with silver rings wave in front of his eyes, and Will jumps – cracking his head painfully on the mast and wondering when Jack crossed the deck. Heedless of any potential head injuries, Jack flings a heavy arm around Will's shoulders, hauling Will up against his side and walking back to the Selkies.  
  
"Now, here is someone for you to meet. Bootstrap's boy." Jack concluds the introduction by shoving Will none too gently at the Selkie pair.  
  
Will cringes, certain he is going to crash into them and irrationally terrified of touching their skin. Skins.  
  
The Selkies stop him, stepping neatly aside and each catching one of his arms. They do not let go, as he expects. Instead they step close, surrounding Will with a salt and fur smell and rather more heat than a human body puts out. Will stays quite still, very aware of their nudity and his lack of a shirt.  
  
His gasp and start at the first brush of whiskers against his neck does not seem to bother them as they sniff at him, throat, cheeks, and hair. Two fine boned hands – the ones not occupied with holding his arms - brush him, and Will cannot tell which hand belongs to whom. He stops wondering when one becomes fascinated with the small of his back, and the other with the hollow of his throat. Will feels dizzy, his heart is pounding and he concentrates on breathing. Jack will not let him forget it if he faints.  
  
Finally, the tickle of whiskers and hot breath retreats. The Selkies release Will's arms, but do not step away from him. Will, still breathing deep and careful, turns his face and meets the profile of the male Selkie. There are small strands of milky glass beads braided into his short hair. His eyes are black, and his face sharp, amused. Handsome. He has left his hand – so inhumanly warm – on Will's shoulder, and there are small webs between each finger.  
  
The female speaks, her voice high but not shrill.  
  
"We like this one, child. He smells nice, steel and cinnamon oil and sun."  
  
Her companion speaks up, and Will - who has not looked away - sees the sharpness of his teeth behind his lips.  
  
"And of you, Jack."  
  
The male is smiling, an odd, toothy thing that curls his whiskers, and his voice is much like hers. But Will has turned away and is too busy turning red to notice.  
  
He is very grateful when Jack slides an arm around his shoulders, pulling Will away from the Selkies, away from too much heat and not enough contact. Grateful not for the touch, but for its familiarity, something Will needs desperately.  
  
"So!" Jack punctuates the word by clapping his hand on Will's chest, since his other hand is occupied with a bit of whalebone braided into Will's hair. The sting of the slap jolts Will, snapping him out of a daze he had not noticed he was in.  
  
"Business now, eh?" Jack suggests, with an expression that has little to do with any business Will has ever seen.  
  
Jack moves slightly away from Will and two small, heavy-look pouches appear with a flair in Jack's hands. As usual, Will cannot quite see where they came from. Jack presents the pouches to the Selkies with something approaching respect.  
  
Will's eyes widen when the Selkies open and inspect the contents of the pouches. These are no baubles Jack is handing out. Every piece is exquisitely crafted, gold, silver, precious stones, two or three fine pieces in each pouch.  
  
The Selkie woman is just as impressed as Will. She lets out a sharp, startled bark when she holds up a design of jade and silver. She stares hard at Jack, holding the necklace out to him.  
  
"Child, this _alone_ is worth the price of passage."  
  
Jack spreads his hands slightly, making an approximation of an innocent face before giving an elaborate bow and kissing the hand that holds the necklace.  
  
"Let it never be said that Captain Jack Sparrow is stingy in friendship or matters of trade."  
  
Jack's gestures are languid and sweeping and Will wonders if he is drunk, then wonders if it matters.  
  
A slow grin spreads over the female Selkies face as she reaches out and strokes Jack's cheek, but it is her companion who speaks with something like pride. "You shall have the easiest passage ever seen."  
  
The expression on the male Selkies face is amused, tolerant, making Will remember legends Elisabeth had read with him as a boy. Legends of seal hunts and savage storms and no survivors but the stories. The evening is still warm, muggy even, but Will shivers.  
  
The female Selkie still has her hand on Jack's face, but frowns a little as she speaks. "We must go. You will not return this way, but we will see you again, yes?"  
  
Jack puts his hand over hers and promises his return with a seriousness Will has never seen. The woman grins broadly and presses the full length of her body to Jack's to kiss him lightly on the mouth. When she moves back all the momentary seriousness is gone from Jack's face, and he merely looks unspeakably smug. The expression gets worse when the male Selkie repeats the gesture.  
  
Then Jack is the last thing on Will's mind as the woman presses to his back and the man to his front, chins on his shoulders and both sets of arms around him. The tickle of whiskers comes again as they whisper in his ears. The female tells him to take good care of Jack, and the male tells him exactly how to do that, in the sort of detail that makes Will turn a shade of red usually only found in the exotic flowers Anamaria likes.  
  
They kiss him briefly, on the mouth and the back of his neck, and Will follows them to the side of the ship. He watches them dive overboard, they are seals before they hit the water and Will still cannot remember the change. 


End file.
